Noon
by Phoenix-Flower92
Summary: Lilly thinks Oliver's a genius. !Thanksgiving Loliver Oneshot!


**A/N: It seems like it's been forever since I've written a loliver!!!! It's nice to be back...hopefully everyone will like this one!**

* * *

The smile on my face? It was definitely permanent as my cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I flipped it out, knowing exactly who it was.

"Hello?" I questioned.

"Hello," came my boyfriend's deep, soothing voice.

My stomach fluttered, and hearing his voice intensified my desire to see him. "I miss you! It's been two whole days! School breaks suck!"

He laughed, "I know. But this is still our week. You know that, right?"

"I know." My smile widened as I recalled the first days of Fall Break, when Oliver took me flying, when we sat in the backseat of his father's van, and when he took me to a movie that he knew, initially, he'd hate.

"Good, because I've been thinking…your family eats out on Thanksgiving, yeah? Well…how would you like to come to, well…my Thanksgiving?"

I think, in that moment, my heart skipped a beat. I think time must have paused as I sat there, on the edge of my bed in my room at home with a squeal of joy working its way up my throat. My thoughts just kept repeating, over and over again, the word, _wow! _Thanksgiving with his family…it would be a serious step in our relationship.

"What time?" was all I could say through my excitement.

"Noon." He supplied, "The meal will be ready at noon."

* * *

And noon it was when I found myself ringing the doorbell at Oliver Oken's house on Thanksgiving Day. A moment passed as I stood there on his front porch, and then there were footsteps, and then finally the door slid open.

"Hey!" Oliver's younger sister, Danielle, greeted me, motioning for me to come inside.

A little confused, I followed her into the house, and into the dining room. There were several dishes across the table, and inside the kitchen, Oliver's mother and Aunt were still cooking. They turned at my appearance, waved and mouthed a greeting; Oliver's adorable American Eskimo dog, Lela, even, barked a hello.

"Oliver's in the shower," Danielle explained.

"The shower?" I repeated, almost in disbelief.

"He just got in there," She nodded, then, laughing, "You should have seen him earlier, his hair was like an Afro!"

I bit back a smile, and I felt a slight blush coming on. He _had _told me noon, hadn't he?! I shook my thoughts away, taking a seat at the table as Oliver's mother brought me a sample piece of homemade banana bread. His Aunt, then, offered me a strip of beef jerky, which I shared with Danielle; I also tried a mini hot-dog, wrapped in bacon, while waiting on the famous moment of Oliver's entrance fresh from his shower.

"He takes long showers," Danielle commented to fill the silence just as I was swallowing the mini hot-dog.

I wished she had not brought up the topic again, because I'd successfully allowed myself to focus on the taste of the food and the pretty patterns on the tablecloth. Now…now I was once more thinking about Oliver. And showers. And Oliver _in_ the shower.

A sigh emitted from my lips; I wasn't supposed to think about my boyfriend in such a way. He had just recently expressed to me how much he loved me, but also that he didn't think about me naked or anything yet. He wasn't like that; he was honest, true, and sincere. He didn't want me as a possession or for a sexual desire…he wanted me, purely, for _me_.

_He's testing me_, I realized. But he was also not being fair; this was making it hard on me. I closed my eyes, and I inhaled and I exhaled and when I reopened my eyes, the bathroom door creaked open. Oliver emerged, his hair still dripping wet in a very sexy sort of way. He was wearing a large, untucked orangish-colored polo shirt with jeans along with a sheepish grin. I shook my head at him.

"You made it!" he smiled.

He slid into the empty seat next to me, swearing that he hadn't meant to be in the shower when I arrived. We talked for a long time, and as it turned out, Thanksgiving Dinner wasn't ready until three that afternoon.

* * *

"I think you're a genius," I revealed later that night, as we were on the couch and my head rested in Oliver's lap.

"Oh?" He laughed, "What do you mean?"

"You planned all of this. You purposely told me noon, knowing dinner wouldn't be ready until much later; you purposely told me noon, so you'd be in the shower and I'd think that was hot; you purposely told me noon, so I'd come on in as if I were family and I'd feel like I fit in; you, sir, purposely told me noon so that I'd get to stay longer."

Oliver Oken didn't speak a word at first. I looked up at him, and he smirked, and he brought his head towards mine to plant a small kiss on my lips.

"Silly Lilly," He whispered after a while, "always over-thinking things…"

"_Please!" _I told him.

We both that the events of the day had been absolutely genius.


End file.
